Valentine's Day
by kilroyactual117
Summary: The war is over for the Spartans of Blue Team, and has been for many years. Things like holidays, however, are still just a bit foreign to them, so hopefully John will remmber what he needs to do when Febuary 14th comes around.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Fluff! Senseless, shameless, horrible fluff! That's all this is.**

 **Really though. It's Valentine's Day, and because I recently finished a story that tended to get pretty depressing at times, and because I'm also currently writing another, equally depressing story to take its place, I decided that giving myself a break and writing something a little more light-hearted for the occasion would be good for me.**

 **Maybe that's a good thing, maybe that's a bad thing, either way enjoy!**

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Linda set her rifle over a low wall, eyeing her sangheili foes that sat about 200 yards ahead of her. This battle had been harder than any she had fought in years, but it was coming to a close. The last few sangheili now stood, backed into their last defensive fortification, and on the edge of defeat.

She settled the scope on the forehead of sangheili Field Marshal and signaled to John to commence the final attack on their entrenched position. A green acknowledgement light flashed on her HUD, and she gently squeezed the trigger, dropping the sangheili.

The other sangheili spun on their heels to investigate, and of nowhere, John, Kelly, and Fred sprung from behind cover near their position, firing into their backs with everything they had. Kelly leaped acrobatically through the air, discharging her shotgun at a rapid pace and dashing swiftly between the sangheili while the other Spartans picked them off from afar.

When the last sangheili fell to one of Linda's trademark precision shots, she tore off her helmet and let out a long breath, glad that that was finally over. The breath she drew in, however, wasn't full full of gunpowder-tinted smoke and gore as most of her life's arduous, bloody battles had been, the air in this battle smelled as sterile as the war games complex it was hosted in.

The length of today's exercise had been a full two hours, making it truly, the longest battle she had been in in the last two years.

Linda almost laughed at how a fake battle now constituted her "biggest battle in years," but the war truly had been over for that long now, hadn't it?

Linda wasn't really sure when the war had ended fro her, but it hadn't been immediately after she had been rescued from the shield world. Pulling John from the Forward Unto Dawn had been one of the biggest rushes of relief she had ever felt in her life, so maybe that had been it. For her, it had felt like the true end of a war, a war that involved so many years of that stress had evaporated in an instant as she brushed the frost off the glass of his cryotube, revealing his armored form for the first tim win years, and ordered Cortana to wake him, catching him as he stumbled out of the pod, as he had become a bit disoriented after so many years in cryo.

She had torn off his helmet, and made sure the first thing he had seen after regaining his eyesight was her smiling face. She had thought that that would be the end of years of secret confessions of love and constant worry over wether or not they would see each other again after the next battle.

It hadn't been, not quite. It had still taken many years for them to adjust to this new life that they had been thrust into, but with their augmentations, the Spartans were expected to live for an obscene amount of time, so if anything, they had years to figure it all out. In a way, she'd like to think they had.

Linda picked up her rifle by its carry handle and ran towards the Spartans, a slight smirk on her face. The simulated ground slowly morphed into the white tile that the facility was made of as the hydraulically raised terrain began to settle as well, leaving them in a large, empty, white room.

"Woohoo!" Shouted Kelly as she bounced back and fourth on her feet, letting her child-like enthusiasm show through, "we kicked ass!"

John removed his helmet and shook his head, wearing a smile underneath that he would have obscured years ago, but now he could have cared less. He still had most of his old, stoic mannerisms, but Linda was glad his smile had been given back to him by the end of the war. It was one of the many things about him she couldn't get enough of.

"You're enjoying this way to much Kelly," he said as he rubbed his shoulder, "me, I think I'm getting a bit old for this."

She laughed and bounced over to him. "Jesus John, you're only eighty five, and I'm a year older than you. Quit complaining."

John shook his head dismissively and sat down heavily on the floor, groaning at the pain in his back.

Linda moved to stand by his side and smiled as Fred came over to join them. He approached Kelly from behind, playfully attempting to catch her in a restraining hold, but she was too fast for him, jumping out of his grasp and instant before he could catch her. He countered, sliding and wrapping his arms around her.

Kelly struggled playfully for a moment, but Linda could tell she was letting him win. That was surprising in its own right. Even though the two of them had been together for some time after the war, this wasn't something Kelly let Fred do often.

It hadn't been long after the conflict had ended that both Kelly and Fred had realized romantic love wasn't just something only Linda and John could fine. The bonds shared between Spartans ran deep, and sometimes love wasn't enough to describe its strength. It wasn't quite the same as a bond shared by a family, or a bond shared by fellow soldiers, it was deeper, and more personal than anyone who wasn't been raised in such horrific circumstances could understand. Love was something that had come more naturally to the two of them than they would have ever imagined, just as it had for John and Linda.

"You caught me you sonuvabitch," she spat not too angrily as she gave up her struggle.

"Well, at least someone can keep up with me," she said, shooting a glance at John.

John just shook his head, while Fred reached up and removed his helmet, pressing a kiss to Kelly's lips and not worrying for a second who saw it.

"Happy Valentine's Day Kelly," said Fred as he pulled away.

 _Valentine's Day?_

Linda raised an eyebrow and checked her HUD's earth-standard calendar. Yes, February 14th. Today was Valentine's Day. Another holiday.

Holidays were something the Spartans were still trying to figure out, even after all these years out of combat. Fred loved Christmas, and it was hard not to celebrate St. Patrick's day with so many Marines around, but the rest just seemed to slip through their minds, mattering little to any of them.

Valentine's Day was supposed to be romantic, that was all Linda knew about it, and clearly, Fred was on top of it.

Linda smiled and rolled her eyes as Kelly and Fred continued to playfully half-spar half-make out, before turning to John to see if he had anything planned for her.

To her surprise, he did nothing, and simply picked up his rifle and head to the locker room. For a moment Linda was disappointed, and she didn't even know why. This hadn't been something they had celebrated in the past, so why would John start now?

Still though, she wished he would have done something after seeing that. Something about the joy she saw in Fred and Kelly's eyes, however, made her wish John had something planned for her. Sh Reid to shrug off the feeling as she packed up her gear and headed for the locker room, stripping her armor quickly and heading back to her small quarters near the facility.

Something about that exchanged stuck with her however, and as she flopped back on her bed, she couldn't help but begin to feel a bit irrationally angry. John had never been one for holidays, but why did he have to forget this one? He could have kissed her, or hugged her, or said something at the very least. She wasn't asking for much, was she?

She took a deep breath and tried to lower her trademark fiery anger. Maybe he was just waiting for a more personal time to say something?

She got her answer when he entered, exhausted and disheveled looking after a long day of fighting.

He made no attempt to talk to her, much less try anything romantic. He simply laid down on the bed next to her and closed his eyes.

"You were great out there today," he said with a level of contentness that shot Linda's anger through the roof.

She scowled in return and crossed her arms over her chest, forcibly removing herself from his side before she did something stupid. Maybe John wasn't the most socially inclined person, but after seeing something like that he should have at least something to say to her.

He sat up and frowned over at her, clearly lacking any inclination as to why she was mad at him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, rubbing his eyes from exhaustion.

Linda shot a glare at him that could have ruptured a frigate's hull.

"Oh, nothing," she said angrily, "I'm sure you just forgot. Silly me."

John raised and eyebrow and stood, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

"what did I forget?" He questioned.

Linda didn't answer and simply Shook her head. John frowned and waited for a response, but saw quickly he wasn't going to get one. She gave him a glare that clearly read "get out." He sighed and headed for the door, guessing that it would be best to give Linda space to think about whatever she was mad about.

"I'm sorry," he said, with sadness in his tone, "I'll leave you alone. I'll be in the commons if you need me."

Linda fumed angrily as he left and paced for several minutes before flopping down onto the bed. Leaving her alone on Valentine's Day, that was John's way of saying he was sorry?

She fumed for a while longer, but as her anger subsided she began to think a little more rationally. It got the better of her many times, and this had certainly turned out to be one of those times.

John wasn't a normal man. To him, Valentine's Day was just any other day. It didn't change the fact that he loved her, or how much. She didn't need to go around questioning that because of some arbitrary date someone had set up. He had never done anything to make her question him in the past, so why start now?

She stood and headed for the commons, hoping that she could end this day better than she had started it.

The Spartan's common room was a relatively small room, mostly left unused by them, accept for when high ranking officers came to visit their new post-war home. It contained little more than a couch, some chairs, and a small, old style fireplace the Spartans never used.

Linda was surprised, however, when she heard the fireplace crackling as she approached. She found John huddled under a blanket near the fire, warming himself and looking dejectedly at the ground in front of him.

Linda didn't even ask what the hell he was doing, she simply sat down next to him and pulled the blanket over herself as well, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Linda?" He asked, clearly expecting her to still be mad at him, "you're not mad at me?"

It wasn't an unreasonable expectation. Linda could stay made at someone for weeks, months, even years, but she had come to realize some things need to be forgiven and forgotten. John was far from the careless, civilian sort of man who would typically celebrate Valentine's Day, and that was the John Linda had fallen in love with.

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry John."

She let out a long breath before continuing, not used to apologizing to anyone for anything.

"Look, I love you, and I know you love me, and I shouldn't let some stupid holiday make me doubt that. I love you John."

She placed a kiss on his forehead, and waited for him to respond, but he was only left looking more confused than he had started.

"I love you too," he said softly, "but which holiday are you talking about?"

Linda sighed and tried to keep her blood pressure under control as she realized that he still truly hadn't a clue which holiday he had forgotten.

"It's Valentine's Day John," she said with a sigh, "it's no big deal that you forgot it. I know we haven't done anything for it in the past, but it's just something that sounds nice to celebrate. That's all."

John's confusion all but evaporated as she finished her sentence, and he grinned slightly.

"Oh, Valentine's Day?" He asked, nearly oblivious to his error.

He reached behind the sofa and pulled out a rose, handing it to her.

"Must have slipped my mind..."

Normally, if John had been joking, Linda would have slapped him, if he was serious, she would have punched him, but in that moment she did neither. She wasn't sure who had convinced him to delegate Valentine's Day, maybe it was Fred, or Kelly, and she would certainly be having some words with all three of them after this about messing with her, but right now that was the last thing on her mind.

She smiled at him, waiting for him to do more, but he simply turned to face the fire and pulled her close to him.

"Do you remember those cold nights on reach when we were still trainees?" He asked, smiling fondly, "When you and I would huddle for warmth to keep from freezing to death?"

Linda smiled at the memory, leaning into John's shoulder. In the midst of such a horrible upbringing, those truly had been good times.

"I sure do," she said, a fondness about her tone.

John turned to face her and pulled the blanket around them, resting his forehead against hers.

"Well, February on earth isn't nearly as cold as February on reach, but I figured we could use some time to warm up together anyway."

By the sly smile on John's face, Linda could clearly tell that this had all indeed been planned. She would have to have some words with him and Fred latter, but now was neither the time nor the place.

Linda smiled sweetly as he placed a kiss on her lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day Linda."

She laughed slightly and kissed him passionately, letting him smile into the kiss before settling her head against his chest.

"Happy Valentine's Day John."

John allowed Linda to curl up against him as he settled himself in and faced the roaring fire, the blanket trapping the heat and warming the two of them.

The two of them stayed that way for God knows how long, enjoying each other's warmth.

Maybe the two of them would never become perfectly adjusted to holidays, or regular life, or anything else that came so easily to most people, but at least they would have each other to hold onto as they tried.

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 **:) 3**

 **Have a great day Spartans.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Happy Valentine's Day all! I've decided to update this Troy again for another year. Hopefully I'll keep with this tradition for a while. It's a nice way to keep my writing on schedule.**

 **This chapter was done as a collaboration between me, and Ladyreclaimer, another amazing writer on this site. Initially, she was writing this fic as a gift for me, but gave up on it, so I proposed that I post it here instead. As such, most of the credit for this chapter goes to her. I just cleaned it up a little and finished it. If you like it, definitely check her out.**

 **Love you all!**

 **-Actual**

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Linda 058 considered herself to be… a patient individual. In fact, she prided herself on her ability to reach a zen like state of focus on and off the battlefield. It required years of training to get to that point. A human mind was meant to absorb all the information it could. Learning to block those sources of noise was like starving it to death.

Although it might seem counter intuitive, she found her focus in a firefight was often much better than when she was alone and at peace. Maybe it was her brutal upbringing that made it easier for her to block the detonation of an anti-tank rocket out of her mind than to forget about a buzzing florescent light.

Right now, she could use a few anti-tank rockets to break up the deafening silence that enveloped her recovery room on the UNSC medical facility _Endurance_.

Only a few weeks ago, she and the other Spartans underwent grueling augmentations. "The next step" in their training she was told. That was Halsey's nice way to mask the fact that half of her brothers and sisters were killed, not in the glory of battle, but on an operating table like dissected frogs. They didn't become the sacrifices of war they were told they would become, but offerings to the unholy altar of science.

Stretched out on slabs; they were taken apart like machines, sliced like slabs of meat, and haphazardly sewn back together until their bodies began to give out, one by one, leaving a river of innocent blood in Halsey's wake.

Linda was almost one of the unlucky ones.

"Your statistically underdeveloped frame caused structural stress and bone temerity," was all Halsey said when Linda woke up as a woman in pieces.

In Sam's words, "You're so shrimpy that the doctor nearly stretched you too far, Lynn."

Sam, always making things easier to bear. It was just in his nature.

He was also right, technically. For a Spartan, she was delicately framed. Seven foot two and two hundred and forty pounds was hardly what an average woman would consider a delicate frame, but weighing in at thirty pounds less than her brothers and sisters wasn't a negligible tolerance when dealing with highly experimental science.

Doctor Halsey tried for weeks to raise her weight and muscle density prior to augmentations, but artificial measures were no substitute for natural resilience. She suffered from the moment she was put under until the moment she woke up. She felt her bones ground to dust and napalm run through her veins as whatever vile chemical she was to be subjected to next flowed through her body like a river of fire.

And then she was confident to bed and left to rot for weeks on end. She couldn't handle a zero to sixty like that. She was born, bred, and fine tuned for action, and not having it was killing her slowly.

Linda considered stealing anesthetic from the doctors just to put herself out of the agony of waiting. It'd been three weeks and she was only just beginning to walk. The doctors kept a constant wary eye on her, as if afraid her body would collapse, and Blue team was doing the same. Every hour, one of them would appear by her bedside or near her chair, telling of some new effect of their augmentations, bringing her a glass of water, Or worse, just watching her sleep. She hated being seen resting like this. It was an embarrassment. She should be fighting, not sitting on her ass.

However, notably absent from her hawkish attendants was the one she wanted to see the most, John. He, among the members of Blue Team, rarely ever showed up in her recovery room. Often, Linda would put herself into a deep state of mediation, enough to fool her heart rate monitor into showing that she was asleep, and only then would he come to visit her.

He's never stayed long, and his expression was always angry as he enquired of the doctors of her condition. Then he would whisk out the door like a ghost.

This wasn't the John she knew. He would never stay to talk to her, and never leave her any gifts or notes. Despite the fact that they were alone with each other many times he never tried to wake her, or even reach out and touch her. She sighed and frowned and she thought about how much she longed to feel his warm hand entwined with hers. He'd only held her hand a few times, usually only when they were alone in Reach's tundra and she needed something to warm her, but his touch felt more than warm. She wanted it for reasons other than physical comfort, reasons she couldn't explain.

Linda's mind slowly drifted from these unconscious thoughts back to reality, as it often did. Sometimes she wondered where she went when she meditated like that, and what her body did while she was gone. She found herself sitting in a chair in her bedroom with her fist supporting her chin, feigning interest and listening to a young doctor go over her blood results.

"Alright, your white blood cell count is still low, we're going to have to add a supplement of Ti-lexathyne until it raises. Also, I want you to get more exercise, maybe take a few laps around the gym. You may want to-"

Linda let her focus shift away to something else as the Doctor continued to talk. After all, he would leave the report on her nightstand when he would leave, she could always read it then. She decided to work on her observation skills, to amuse herself. The doctor had a pleasing west African accent. That accent and many others were rather rare considering the great migration of humanity's races across the stars. Accents turned into more of a social statement than a cultural phenomenon. In the 26th century, an accent could be as important a heritage as another language, but still, Linda was surprised she picked up on it. She rarely noticed small details about transient people like this doctor.

After she underwent augmentations, Linda noticed that her hearing was multiplied tenfold. Now, voices and accents had deeper levels of richness and variety. This young doctor had a warm medium toned voice with a habit of humming in between sentences. Linda could also make out the faintest remnant of a childhood lisp. She wondered if his parents helped him overcome it...her parents...

"058? Did you hear that?"

Linda snapped up and refocused on him, a stiff nod was enough to satisfy the clearly uncomfortable doctor.

"Good. Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

The heavy white door swung closed behind him, leaving Linda free. Quickly rising from her chair, she ran towards her bed and flopped back onto it.

Linda gave a sigh of relief and stretched out luxuriously onto the soft hospital bed. She often felt guilty about enjoying luxuries like this, but she assured herself it wouldn't be long until she was back on an army cot. Linda rolled over onto her shoulder and looked at the nightstand beside her bed; the lab report sat on top. Linda stretched out an arm to grab it, but the sight of her own arms stopped her. Ugly red scars stood out on her arms. But it wasn't the scars that caught her attention, such vain concerns didn't affect her; what did affect her was how thin and weak her arms looked. How would she hold up a sniper rifle like this? The recoil would take her shoulder out of her socket. She knew she was being dramatic, of course. She was augmented now. She has muscular structure that could rival any athlete, but compared to John...

 _Why do I always have to compare myself to John?_

Linda sighed. She needed to get back in shape, regardless of what her doctor said. She couldn't stand staying weak and unconfident any longer.

She slipped on pt pants, knotted them tightly, and slipped on the tank top. Linda jogged for the door and grabbed the crash bar firmly in her hands, but her reflection in the door's glass window made her pause. A pair of large, bloodshot green eyes, rimmed in pink stared back at her. Her red hair was shorn off for the surgery but a few weeks of uninterrupted growth gave her a short red fringe which curled slightly down over her ears.

For once in her life, she felt genuinely disgusted with her appearance. Between the scars that covered her body and the weakness in her eyes, she looked like a shadow of her former self.

 _Is this what John sees? Is that why he stays away? Is he embarrassed that I've become weak?_

Linda broke away from the reflection and shrugged off the thought. She'd become strong again. She'd prove to him she wasn't weak. She threw herself out the door, determined to prove him wrong.

The walk down to the gym wasn't too bad. The hallways were mostly clear of any staff or Spartans, which helped her ego as she stumbled through her first, long walk in weeks. Most of the quicker recovering Spartans were probably attending a class of Deja's. Doctor Halsey put them all on, not only a physical regimen, but an educational one as well. Linda felt a cold weight in her stomach as she thought of her teammates. Her recovery time was starting to make her feel ineffective and useless.

Linda's contemplation as she walked down the hall was interrupted by the low rumble of John's voice.

"Linda," John said, "glad you're finally out of bed."

He was standing at near perfect attention next to the gym door as though he was expecting her. His face was as even as ever. No sadness, no remorse at her condition, and definitely no happiness to see her.

In spite of her anger at his neglect of her, she felt relief at the fact that she was finally talking to him, but being as she was the most stubborn of Blue Team she would never admit to it.

"The hell do you care?" She barked, "I'm your teammate, John, maybe you could have at least talked to me rather than sneaking around."

Stared at him with bared teeth after she made her statement, awaiting a response, but the impassiveness in his face remained. His eyes glanced at the floor for a brief moment, a response she couldn't place, but frankly, she was too angry to care.

She rolled her eyes at his lack of response and walked past him into the gym. John followed behind her. Linda quickly noticed he was also in his gym clothes but he hadn't sweat in them yet….yep, definitely waiting for her.

"Linda," he said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, John?" Linda asked coldly as she continued to stride along the track path marked out in red on the gym floor. It traced out the length of approximately .7miles. If she walked it three times over she should fulfill her physician's wants.

"Doctor Halsey asked me to help you get back into shape."

This made her heart drop, but she kept walking, not betraying the fact that she felt disappointed that John didn't want to see her.

"You always were Halsey's little pet," Linda snapped, "what are your orders, squad leader?"

John did a terrible job of masking the hurt that now adorned his face at Linda's snapping.

 _That's right, feel guilty, asshole._

He jogged up beside her and handed her a roll of bandages to wrap up her hands.

"Sparring."

Linda put on a sideways grin.

 _Good…I'm going to make him pay._

John was surprised when Linda snatched the bandage roll eagerly and practically ran over to the boxing ring. With a bit of vindictive pleasure, Linda tightly bound up her hands and glared at John as she did so. If he noticed, he didn't show it; he just strode around his corner and warmed up.

Linda did her warm up exercises, surprised at how winded they made her. It only made her more determined to show John she wasn't weak.

As soon as Linda signaled to John that she was ready he positioned himself in the middle of the ring and raised his hands.

John through a hard and fast punch straight at her. It had little impact force, but it was quick. Linda's augmented mind picked up on it instantly, but as she tried to block she felt a jet of pain shoot through her right arm, stopping her block short.

John's punch was only inches from her face when he realized she wasn't going to be able to block. He stopped just short of hitting her, and lost his balance for a moment, giving Linda a temporary advantage.

She seized her momentary advantage as John moved in to make sure she was ok. Linda leapt at him and tackled him to the mat, getting him into a mount and pinning him down. She rapidly threw punches at him. Even with her delayed physiology, John wasn't able to block all of them, and before long his face was black and blue.

But he wouldn't hit back. He still thought she was too weak to fight.

"Hit me!" She screamed at him, "I'm a goddamn soldier. I can take a few punches. Hit me!"

Just before her last punch landed, John rolled out from under her, pushing her off the ground as he rolled to his feet. Linda landed in a crouched stance and looked up at him.

John looked down at her with a mixture of anger and sadness. Conflict raged behind his eyes, and linda saw all of it as he struggled to speak.

"Linda, please, I don't want to hurt you," he said in a heavy voice.

Linda glared at him and stumbled to her feet.

"You're going to have to."

She didn't give him a chance to react before lunging at him in fury, her fist coiled over her head, poised to strike.

The strike was sloppy, but she didn't care. He caught the strike, but Linda was aiming for his heart and his mind, not his chest. Her punches weak and off-center and her kicks were anything but firm. However, little by little she was beginning to tap into her muscle memory.

Quickly the minutes ticked by until nearly an hour passed, and John still didn't lay a hand on her.

Linda growled in frustration. He didn't give a shot about her, so why was he torturing her like this? Was this his punishment for her being weak, to leave her feeling like she wasn't even strong enough to fight him?

"Linda, enough," said John in a stern voice.

"We've been at this for hours. You look tired and hurt. Let's go catch the end of that microphysics class Deja was leading."

That pushed her over the edge.

"Tired and hurt? Is that what you think of me? You don't think I can handle myself in a fight, do you? You think that just because I can't recover like you that I'm weak?let me show you just how wrong you are."

Linda slowly lowered her bandaged fists to her sides and wearily leaned against the ropes as she waited for his response. The red scars covering her pale arms matched with the blood red ropes, but she didn't care. As far as she was concerned, she was never more ready for a fight.

John dropped his tape to the mat and walked towards her, his eyes sad and narrow.

"I know you're tough Linda, but you need to get your strength back, and until you do, I'd rather let you kill me than fight you."

For a moment, Linda seriously considered the thought. He just about killed her when he left her cold and alone for a week. Returning the favor would do him some final good.

"Why does it matter if I get my strength back?!" Linda shouted angrily at him.

Her strength was starting to flag as she threw a sloppy straight punch to his gut, in an attempt to knock him over. John didn't even attempt to catch the punch. If he reacted, the punch probably wouldn't affect him, but against the open target he left it caused him to completely topple and land on his knees.

"Answer me," she screamed.

Linda never saw a more defeated look on John's face in his life. He was always the hero, the on everyone counted on, now he was kneeling before her after letting himself be beat into submission. That pulled at her heartstrings. She didn't let herself show it, but she began to consider that maybe her anger got the better of her in this situation.

John reached up, and placed his hand over her own, just like he did on those cold nights on Reach. She fought back the urge to sigh. She fought to get her anger back, or anything to use against him, but it was gone.

"I don't want to almost lose you again," John said hoarsely.

"When I looked at you after your surgery, I thought you were dead. Your heart was beating, but I felt like part of you was lost. You didn't look as strong or confident as you used to. You looked broken, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't stand not being able to help you. I'm sorry."

Linda's prepared retort froze in her throat. Was he saying that he was…worried about her? Linda stared down at him in amazement. Apparently John was surprised by what he said too. He drew back, withdrawing his hand from off of Linda's. There suddenly felt like there was too little space between them and yet too much. John exhaled sharply and ducked under the ropes.

The instant his eyes were no longer on her, Linda felt like she had forgotten something. John was making his way out of the gym, hindered by the wounds she gave him. They were both broken now, and she had herself to blame for that.

Before she knew what she was doing, Linda was storming after him.

"Wait! John, please don't go," she said as she chased after him.

John kept walking, and quickened his pace, running away from her. He took off, running as fast as he could though the station until he finally hit a dead end hallway. He about faced to run again, but he didn't have a chance. Linda was standing there, inches from him, breathing heavily from her pursuit.

"John, it's alright, please, I care about you," she said sadly.

She fumbled for a way to show him how much she cared. He was everything to her. One of her only friends in a very cruel reality. Finally, she reached down and took his hand in her's.

She saw the way his eyes dilated when she touched him. He was scared, he wanted to leave, but he also enjoyed it?

"Linda, please, I'm sorry, but you need to let me go," he sad shakily.

Linda glared at him.

"No, I'm not letting you go," she said, a hint of bitterness in her tone in spite of herself.

"I want an explanation first. I deserve that much."

John cast his eyes wide searching for words. His eyes finally fell on her again, but this time there was a strange look in them. For a moment the two of them stood there extremely close.

Before she could react, John reached down and cupped her face gently with his palm.

"Linda I've always thought, I've always liked..."

John choked, completely unable to convey his meaning, but somehow it hung there, open for both of them to see. That _other_ feeling that Linda felt when John held her hand, he felt it to. The two of them shared a mutual bond, deeper than any of the other Spartans. Was that even possible? Could you even define a bond like that?

Linda saw John lean in towards her as he gently caressed her once again. She didn't fight it. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she wanted to see where it ended.

He leaned in and pressed his lips quickly onto hers. It wasn't what one could call a graceful kiss, or even a passionate kiss but it was intense as if John were trying to convey to her how sorry he was.

Linda froze, causing John to pull away. She moved her mouth to form the words she needed to convey to him what she wanted.

John moved in for another kiss as she still awkwardly tried to form her thoughts into words. As his lips touched hers again, she could feel the warmth of his kiss shoot right through her, right down to her feet. Linda, hesitantly leaned into him and kissed him back, curious about the sensation. They were both young and inexperienced, but the action came easy to Linda when she steeled into the feeling of John's rough, yet gentle hands on her, and the heat of his body pressed against hers. She began to get so caught up in the kiss that John pulled away to catch his breath. His face was covered in surprise. A faint smile traced both of their lips as they breathed rapidly in excitement and shock. Linda's hand gently reached up to trace the line of John's jaw. As she touched him a strange look grew in John's eyes. The look was a powerful mix between fear and desire. Linda answered his look by pulling him down by his collar to kiss her. Her lips pressed firmly against his in a manner that conveyed such expression and feeling that it was almost chaste. The weight of their kiss growing firmer and firmer Linda pushed John back against the hallway wall to be out of view of the cameras. She let her weight rest against him as she drove deeper into the embrace.

John gently pulled away. Linda could feel him trembling beneath her hands. She looked up into his blue eyes and realized the truth. John was always there, always in her thoughts, and she was always in his. Of course he couldn't bear to see her in pain. Linda knew she couldn't bear to see him in pain. Those lonely nights in the infirmary melted away when she looked up at him. Linda didn't know what she felt about John but right now she knew that this was right. She wrapped her arms around his chest and rested her head on him wearily. John rested his chin on her head and breathed in the smell of her hair. All the pent up aggression disappeared and was replaced was a sense of relief.

"Linda, I've wanted to tell you before…I just…" He was stopped by two long pale fingers touching his lips.

"It's okay John. Talking has never been our strong suit."

John smiled then, one of the rare true smiles that he ever blessed anyone to witness. He grabbed Linda's hand and gently held it. His large warm hand holding her cold thin one, just like old times.

"You mean the world to me." Linda said hesitantly but firmly. "And I don't regret anything that happened to me to bring me here, because it meant I got to know you."

silence overtook them as they rested against each other. They both knew their lives as soldiers took precedence, but this discovery would change both of their attitudes on what was important. They left with only a small promise to each other to meet again later that night. They didn't know what it meant for them going forward, but they knew for certain that they would never let go of each other again.


End file.
